My cell, four corners tight.
Claustrophobic in its emptiness.
No window to peer out.
No door to even attempt a break.
Just me. Naked.
Dressed only with a blank stare.
And a watch.
Ticking away at the infinitum of time.
Monday, August 16, 2010
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3 comments:
I've been lacking the motivation to write daily, as evidenced by my absence last week.
You stole my title. You're lucky I'm a forgiving person.
Anyways, I like how you use the blank page as a metaphor throughout. This poetry writing endeavor can be a real pain in the ass and your description of the blank page captures that frustration.
After rereading Vogelman's "Uninspired," I changed my title to "Blank Page," inspired by your comment, Brent. I do not welcome the comparison of your poem to mine, for reasons explained in the content of my poems for this week.
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